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Monthly Archives: March 2011

Recently I gave in to months of peer pressure (at least it was positive peer pressure) and decided to join a gym. Okay, I actually wasn’t pressured that much. I was talking to a friend of mine about how I wanted to try taking yoga and spinning classes. For months she had been going on about how great her gym membership is because it gives her access to all sorts of classes including, you guessed it, yoga and spinning, and it’s cheaper than getting individual memberships to various exercise studios. So finally I joined. Joining was surprisingly easy. I wasn’t talked into anything I didn’t want and there wasn’t much pressure to get a personal trainer. At least, there wasn’t until yesterday when I had my so-called “fitness assessment.”

Now, like most overweight people, I’ve had a gym membership before. When I was 16 I joined a women’s only gym. The fitness assessment at that gym included taking in my weight, calculating my body fat percentage, and testing my strength, endurance and so on through a series of short fitness tests. The fitness assessment at this new gym only assessed my weight and body fat percentage along with asking me a series of questions about my family’s health history. It was all pretty average. And then it turned into an hour long live infomercial about why I NEED to get a personal trainer.

Yep, I sat there for over an hour listening to one of the trainers explain what kind of plan I could do and claiming, “You could work out on your own but a trainer will help to keep you motivated and will teach you the best exercises to burn off fat.” Obviously I had told them that losing weight was my main reason for joining a gym but I also felt like a bit of an easy target because I’m so overweight. As the session went on it started to make me think that maybe I couldn’t do this all by myself. But the idea of getting a personal trainer is impossible for me right now. The “plan” for me to meet with a trainer three times a week for one year would have cost…wait for it…$8134.37.

Um, excuse me?! That’s more than an entire year’s tuition! Never mind that I’m a student whose minimum wage job contract has just ended. Somehow they actually expected me to say, “Sure, that sounds great! Sign me up and while you’re at it, here’s a written contract stating that I’ll hand over my firstborn as well.” I was seething at this point. What was even more frustrating was the trainer claiming that my parents should “be supportive” by possibly helping with the payment. Yeah, my middle-class parents who are already dealing with a ton of financial obligations and my brother’s upcoming wedding. Obviously they have a ton of money to spare. By the time I left I was almost shaking with frustration and what’s worse, I didn’t have time for an actual workout because I had to head straight over to my doctor’s office.

This is where everything gets much, much better. At the end of my appointment I told my doctor that I had decided to join a gym. I explained that I get bored with just doing cardio and weights (which I could easily do in my building’s gym) and that I wanted to try a variety of classes. I also told him about my BS “fitness assessment.” He was great. He told me that first off, he and his wife go to a gym and they had to deal with the same pressure to hire a personal trainer. He also told me that if I wanted, he could give me a referral for a real health assessment at the nearby sports clinic, explaining that it would be completely objective because no one would be trying to sell me anything. Apparently I would be tested on four levels of fitness including strength, endurance, power and flexibility. They may also be able to give me a lot of resources about different kinds of exercises to try and tips for healthy eating. I’m definitely going to go for it.

I realize that it may be kind of cheesy to sit here and write an entire blog post about how great my doctor is, but he deserves some props. He’s thorough, helpful, understanding and most of all, he actually listens to me. That’s why from now on, I’m referring to him as Dr. Awesome.

Almost everyday when I was in India it seemed that I had to tell my dad over and over again that I was hungry. See, the problem is that most days while I was in India were spent shopping. That may not seem like an issue but it often meant that when lunch time rolled around, we were out of the house and food options were pretty limited. Not to mention that my dad is one of those people who can go all day without eating and survive on only a few cups of tea. I usually found myself getting extremely annoyed after telling my dad that I was hungry only to be dragged to yet another store. I’m not sure what was worse. Getting overly hungry everyday or the fact that my options when eating out were usually limited to either samosas or pakoras. It would be the same as going shopping at the Eaton Centre and only being able to stop for french fries and onion rings. In fact the one North American restaurant that I missed the most while I was in India was Subway. I longed to be able to stop for a plain, uncooked sandwich with fresh vegetables on it. But I digress..

The interesting thing is that I think at times I had forgotten what it was like to actually be hungry. The fact that I couldn’t eat what I wanted, when I wanted kind of forced me to change my outlook on eating while I was in India. I only ate when I was truly hungry, something that doesn’t happen very often when I’m in Canada. I can’t say that it made eating any more enjoyable but I think it actually changed me a bit. I noticed that I was usually eating only three meals a day, and maybe one snack if I was lucky. I definitely didn’t seem to get as hungry as I normally do and it was strangely relieving to not have much choice in my meals. I never had a say in what we ate for dinner (although that doesn’t matter much because most Indian food is incredibly healthy anyway).

The challenge now is to eat the same way now that I’m back in Canada. It kind of reminds me of a book I read last summer that talked about losing weight by listening to your body and only eating when truly hungry. Food seems so different when you can’t just eat to your heart’s content. Each time I ate lunch it actually felt like I was eating for fuel, not just for fun. Now I just have to learn how to cook Indian food and I’ll be set.

I’ve been back from India for two weeks now and yet I haven’t really written much about my trip. So let’s start here.

See that? That’s butter. Fresh, organic, homemade butter that was made from the milk/cream of our very own cows (who are also fed organic food). Now I don’t want to sound like one of those high and mighty, must eat only organic food people (after all, I love Easy Mac) but I have to admit, there is something to be said for having fresh, homegrown and yes, organic food everyday. I loved the fact that I could actually witness the process of how our food was made. Each morning the cows were milked. A portion of the milk/cream was put into a container and then churned with an automatic churner, which caused the butter to gather at the top. And what was leftover was buttermilk aka lassi. I’m not a fan of buttermilk but it’s pretty popular in India and almost everyone in my family had a large glass of it everyday. There was also milk that was boiled every night and would later become yogurt.

In fact, I realized that almost all of the food that I ate while I was in India was homegrown. With the exception of a few items like eggs or flour, everything came from our own farm. I have to admit, now that I’m back in Canada everything just seems so…processed. Probably because it is. And yes I can buy organic butter and yogurt but it’s still not the same as having it fresh everyday. Technically I could make my own yogurt but it would still require store bought milk. It kind of made me realize why my dad has such an appreciation for home cooking and is always going on and on about the evil chemicals in North American food every time I open up a can of Chef Boyardee. After spending time living on a farm I can definitely see where my dad is coming from. I’m not about to turn into an all organic locavore but I definitely have an appreciation for seeing the production of food from beginning to end.

I’m back from India! It was a great trip and yes, it impacted my thoughts about eating and how much I eat, etc. But that’s not what this post is about. No, this post is about what happened after I returned from India. And what happened is that I had the worst stomach trouble (to put it lightly) that I’ve ever had in my life. It happened immediately after the plane landed. I was walking toward immigration when I found myself running toward the bathroom instead, where I threw up over and over again. After my brother and mom picked me up we drove out of Detroit and back into Canada. As we crossed the border I could feel something going on in my stomach so I told my brother to stop at the nearby McDonald’s as fast as possible. I ran in and quickly found out that I had the runs. Yep: diarrhea.

For some reason I thought that maybe it was just a one time thing. I put the vomiting down to the occasional nausea that I get when flying and thought that the diarrhea was a result of exhaustion. And believe me, I was exhausted. I had just experienced an 8 hour car ride to Delhi, a 9 hour flight to France, an 8 hour layover in Paris and another 9 hour flight to Detroit. I slept but sleeping upright with a neck pillow is not the same as lying down in a bed. Since I thought the stomach trouble was a one time thing I ended up having a 4am snack of a chocolate bar and milk. That was a bad idea.

Needless to say, the next few days involved the same routine of running to the bathroom (some times 4 times in half an hour!) with the runs and throwing up anything that wasn’t totally plain, like the day I tried to eat peanut butter on toast. I feel the need to reiterate that never in my life had I experienced being so sick. It was awful enough that I lost six pounds in two days and was generally pretty miserable.

Luckily all bad things come to an end. I’ve finally started eating normal food again. And boy did I eat. I have never felt so ravenous in my life. On the first day that I was able to eat normally I had four Eggo waffles, a Subway sandwich and a pizza with ham, ground beef, green peppers, sautéed mushrooms and caramelized onions. I’m obviously not going to eat that way everyday but it was definitely enjoyable after days of having nothing but chicken noodle soup and crackers.

So why did I title this post Farting with Confidence? Because now I finally can. My stomach isn’t totally back to normal, I have more gas than I’ve ever had in my life. But at least I no longer have to run to the bathroom every time my stomach gurgles.

About Me

My name is Kirthan and this is my little corner of the internet where I write about pop culture, fashion, beauty, life as a plus size woman and whatever is on my mind.